Free Secrets over Sweet Tea by Denise Hildreth Jones Page B

go out for a little while.”
    She knew what that meant, but she saw no point in getting into it with him. Not at that moment. “Okay, well, I’d love to go with you, but—”
    “Yeah, I know. Bedtime for you.” He leaned over to kiss her. “You just go home and get some rest. We’ve got a lot of unpacking left to do this week.”
    Grace resisted the urge to scream. She looked down and fingered the lace edges of her short-sleeved wrap blouse. “What time do you think you’ll be home?”
    “Who knows? You know how us boys are.”
    “You should take Clay,” Julie encouraged. “He needs to hang with some boys too.”
    Clay shook his head. “Nope, I’m going home. I worked out hard today, and I want to get this ridiculous makeup off of me—” he wiped his face and crinkled his brow—“and get into bed.”
    Tyler slapped him on the back. “Yep, that’s my Clay. Always doing the right thing. Hey, Julie-girl, you’ll make sure Gracie gets home okay, won’t you?”
    Julie shot him a flirty smile. “Will do.”
    Tyler extended his hand to Clay. “Good to see you, man. I’ll see you later this week, I’m sure.”
    Clay’s face was unreadable. “You too, Tyler. Great job. You’re a pro at this.”
    Tyler threw his head back and laughed. He kissed Grace again and headed for the door.
    Grace picked up her red patent-leather bag from the floor and gave Julie a hug. “Good to see you.”
    Julie still had as much enthusiasm as she’d had when they arrived. “It was a wonderful show.”
    “Yeah, it was.”
    “Let’s do lunch next week.” Julie’s words came out quickly.
    Grace answered, “Sure,” although, honestly, she’d rather have to move again. She waved and hurried away before Julie could remember her promise to see her home.
    It was dark when Grace emerged from the hotel. And she was alone—again. She drove the few miles to her new home, a home that felt no more hers than the man who had kissed her tonight. She took Miss Daisy outside to do her business andthen walked into the bathroom and studied her face. She didn’t see tired. She saw weary. And weary ran to deep-down places.
    She slipped into her pajamas and wandered into the kitchen. She didn’t really want to unpack, but she didn’t feel like sleep either. Three hours later she took the last cardboard box that had held her kitchen stuff out to the garage and stacked it with the other thirty cartons she had emptied that day. Her kitchen was officially in working order, so now she could at least function. As she climbed the few stairs into the house, she rubbed her right shoulder. Her rotator cuff had been giving her a fit for the last three months.
    The green fluorescent numbers on the microwave and the stove announced she had worked away most of her sleeping hours. She’d pay for that tomorrow.
    Miss Daisy was snoozing in the family room, stretched out on her cheetah-print ottoman in front of the fireplace. Her body operated on Grace’s clock, and at least she’d had sense enough to know when to go to sleep.
    Grace picked the creature up in her arms and headed to the bedroom. “Come on, Miss Daisy. Let’s get an ounce of shut-eye.”
    She set Miss Daisy down on the end of the bed, then walked into the bathroom. She stared at her reflection again and winced. There wasn’t enough concealer in the Deep South to hide the dark circles that had embedded themselves under her eyes. She brushed her teeth, set the alarm for an hour later, and climbed into bed. Alone.
    She laid her head on the pillow. Every piece of her seemed to melt into the bed. Her thoughts went to the day she had spent. The early morning. The boxes. The kiss. Disappointmentstirred. She pushed it down. She needed to sleep, and she couldn’t do that if she stayed angry.
    “We’ve really gotten ourselves into a mess, haven’t we, Miss Daisy?”
    Miss Daisy only snored.
    “Me too, sweetie. Me too.” Grace closed her eyes.
    She opened them again slowly when she heard